


It's Just a Game

by Shanecei



Category: Original Works, Undertale
Genre: AU, Ask Me Anything, In Notes, LITERALLY ANYTHING GO FOR IT, Original Works - Freeform, Requests, Tags Chapter Unique, Tags Vary By Chapter, Trigger Warnings, au's, prompt, prompts, triggers in notes, undertale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-27 22:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15694506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shanecei/pseuds/Shanecei
Summary: Heya!I've decided to start a request FIC as I find one shots SOO much easier to write than full blown stories. It would help me to get into the mood to write to continue them as well.Rules are in the first chapter but almost anything goes! (Unless I specifically refuse your request, I will give reasoning for as well)Happy reading!





	1. Chapter 1

Rules: (list may be increased in the future)

* * *

 

If I say no to a request, you can ask again or (if appliacable) leave out the part I refused and I will write the rest.

* * *

 

I can do reader/oc inserts and relationship stories (ya thirsty mofos).

* * *

 

Please say any specific characters you want included, try to say if you want to change their personality slightly or at all.

* * *

 

You  _can_ ask to have it completed by a specific date, but I can not garuntee it will either; be as well written, as long as I would prefer or even completed on time if it is within 5 days or less. (As I do have school unfortunately :/)

* * *

 

IF YOU WANT A TAILORED FIC TO YOUR APPEARANCE OR OC USE THIS SHEET AS FOLLOWS:

  * General appearance (hair/fur, eye colour(s), hight, foot size idk)
  * Personality (shy, cute, angry, bored, empty ect)
  * Family relations (do you really need examples)
  * ANYTHING THAT COULD INFLUENCE THE REQUEST YOU PUT IN (USE THE MEAT SACK IN YOUR SKULL PLEASE)




	2. Sans / Big!Gorgon!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For @Punny_fan ! Hope you like it!
> 
> I tried to make the hight more obvious, but I couldn't without it being uncomfortable and forced so I hope this works!
> 
> ~Shanecei
> 
> Warnings: slight blood mention (few drops), rat death, loneliness

I hurl my spear into the underbrush, scattering leaves and snapping branches. A quiet 'thunk' resounds through the forest, shattering the quiet. I prowl slowly towards my weapon.

Pushing aside some leaves, I witness the point of impact had gone directly through the skull, killing them instantly. Pulling it out, I drip a bit of blood onto the dirt floor, feeding the flowers. I take a bite out of the leg. Blood squirts onto my tongue, leaving an almost addicting coppery tang to seep into my mind. I toss the rest to the snakes, they toss and play with it a bit before eating. This causes a bit of red to drip down my forehead.

Sighing with a slight grin on my face, I start the trek to the spring. Then I hear it. A cracking if twigs and leaves.

I silence the snakes and climb a tree, my long limbs easily and deftly grasping the branches to pull myself up. Crouching on a high branch, I wait. It only takes a few minutes before I witness what was making the sounds.

It was a skeleton.

I had seen them before, but they never moved as they were rotted corpses. I had talked to them, but that was out of sheer boredom. This, well, this was new.

He had dark blue, unlaced shoes; I believe they were called 'sneakers'. He wore a coat of similar shading, half zipped and showing a black tank top; this allowed me to see the tops of his boney chest. His lazy gait almost brushed his trousers along the floor with each step he took.

He was _facinating_.

Who, or even what, with this demenor would come into the forest where the 'deadly' gorgon lived? Was he mad or brave? What was his goal?

...did he come to kill me? Deciding to follow him, I use the thick branches of the trees to jump between them; I only made a slight noise with each movement due to my years of practice.

 

  
The time passed quickly, or it may have been no time at all, but I became comfortable with the man. He was telling jokes out loud that made me giggle slightly. I decided to say hello.

"Hello, what's your name?" He immediately stopped walking, becoming tense like my prey when I first started hunting. I could see him force his tense posture into relaxation, and I witnessed his hands slowly come out of his pockets. He started moving again. I become more persistent.

"Do you not wish to tell me?" This time his hands clench into fists. He looks around warily before his left pin prick turns a slight shade of blue, it then blooms into a beautiful blue flame. It enraptured me, the hipnotic dance as it gently caressed his face. The harmless flames were _breath taking_.

"I understand your wariness, you are in the forest alone, but I promise you no harm." I seem to have said the correct words as he relaxes once more. He is still clearly on edge, yet is willing to talk

"sans, that's my name, now who are you?"

"I don't have one." I felt like I could be honest with him. It was like I knew him for years. He looks taken aback.

"you don't have a name?" I felt ashamed, my race had stopped my ability at a normal conversation. I would never be able to enjoy modern life.

"Gorgon's don't deserve names." His confusion only grew.

"what's a gorgon? i've never heard of them before." Now it was my turn to be surprised. He'd never heard of a gorgon before? Who was this mysterious man?

"We are a race with snakes for hair, and a petrifying gaze."

"you can't be that scary." I laugh dryly at his interpretation, almost feeling bad that I had to break his confidence in himself before realising if I wanted to talk normally, he would have to know the truth.

"No, if you look at us, you turn to stone." His mouth appeared to make an 'oh' of realisation, before his gaze hardened.

"well, everyone deserve a name, species or not."

"I'm glad you think like that." I smile. It was a gentle smile, one of resignation. I almost don't realise when the next words come out of my mouth.

"If I come down, will you promise not to look at me?" I was shocked at my own boldness. What was I thinking? I didn't want to accidentally kill the first person I've talked to in years. This was horribly dangerous! Before I can take back my request, he speaks once more.

"i don't like promises, but i wont, no matter what." I'm left gaping for a bit. Collecting my courage, I steel my nerves and start to climb down. I look towards my company, before realising I haven't responded in sound or words. I purposefully make my next movements noisy so he knows my direction and can look away.

Before I know it I've reached the ground.

I almost want to climb back up, but knowing what I've said, the cause remains clear in my mind. I walk towards him until I stand almost directly behind him; not close enough to touch, but still able to talk comfortably. This is when I notice our hight difference. I'm almost a full two heads taller than him, but his body is slightly wider. My arms could wrap around him almost twice and my legs could jump over him if I tried.

I decide to start with a simple question to get the conversation started.

"How are you alive? Most skeletons I know are dead people." He chuckles slightly at my inquiry, his shoulders shaking with the movement. I don't understand why it was funny. It is most likely just another joke I don't understand due to my isolation.

"i'm a monster, kid. i'm made of pure magic, not remains." I nod, but then become confused.

"What is a monster? And what is magic?"

"that is a very good question, kiddo. you might want to sit down for this, it's a long story." I get slightly giddy with the prospect of new information and follow his request with minimum thought involved.

He sits down as well, still looking into the forest, and gets comfortable. I notice his hands then, they look interesting and before he can start I speak up.

"Can I hold your hand? I'd like to look at it before we start."

"o'course, kid." Lifting his hand, I grasp it in my own.

My hand almost engulfs his, so I lay my hand palm up and rest his on top. I lightly trace the fingers and palm with my nail, causing his hand to twitch slightly in response. The bone appears smooth at first glance, but there are miniscule nicks and scratches across the surface. The bones look to be held together by nothing at all.

"you're, uh, quite large aren't you?" He buts in. I nod, before correcting myself with a verbal response.

"Yes, I am about two heads taller than you." He goes quiet after this. Looking at his skull in concern, I let go of his hand. Sitting back, I lay down on my side to face him.

"Tell me about monsters. Please." He nods an affirmative, and begins to talk.

 

 

  
We stay there for over an hour, just talking, before he looks at a clock on his wrist.

"oh jeeze, i gotta go, kid." He stands.

"Oh." I feel upset that he can't stay, but understand he must go.

"Will... will you come back?" I question shyly, my voice becoming more quiet in the process. He seems to contemplate something, before he moves.

He turn a full semi circle towards me, his eyelids clamped shut with a broad smile on his face.

"sure, kiddo. i'll always come back." Overcome with joy, I grab him in a hug. My snakes hissing slightly in happiness as well.

"Thank you! I look forward to it." Releasing him once more, my snakes being drawn towards him, I start to climb the tree I came down. I reach the top and look back. I see his head vanish into the bushes and sigh. I decide to prepare a cooked meal next time he visits, so I set about collecting firewood.

The silence of the forest sets in once more, only me to break it. I'm the only one here...

...but I'm no longer alone.


	3. New York, New Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little thing I did for school, we had to write an original story.

The hustle and bustle of the swarm of people outside the window was a gentle murmur in the calm and quiet. A faint baseline was played out with the drumming of feet upon the unforgiving concrete. A higher pitched but equally consistent rumbling came not from the feet, but from the mouths of the unknowing entertainment. Humans are an oddity that could not and would not be placed. We surround ourselves in metal and unnatural buildings and structures, taking comfort in their hulking masses. An insult to the nature we came from.

I smile a rueful smile at my thought process, always the pessimistic one I was. The coffee in my hands has since gone lukewarm, my musings being sucked away along the piping steam due to the forever marching man called time. I gulp down the last few mouthfuls before standing and taking the cookie I was saving for my departure. I take the shortest of glances back into the shop before I turn and brave the flood that awaited me.

It was like entering a pool. You expect a minor difference in your senses, yet your are shocked every time at the sheer difference there is. Instead of the calm of the cafe that I was once in, I now experience first hand the busy and confident nature the crowd exuded. I feel a minor urge to go back to the place I called a second home, but knowing that I must go I march with the crowds. It is here that I feel the most welcomed. The wash of people do not question, they do not stare, they only welcome and engulf the new arrival; a body in the mass of hundreds makes no difference unless they make it so.

As I walk I eat the cookie in my hand. I use it as a way to keep myself from the prying eyes of others while I observe those around me. I lift the cookie and take a bite. While the treat takes away the attention from my eyes, they flick to and fro, taking in the details of those I deem necessary. Multiple profiles fill my mind, over 15 making an appearance in the second I look about. As soon as the bite is taken I go back to being another person on a mission to go somewhere. I take another bite. This time I toss the people that are no longer there out of my mind and improve the list on those still present. I note down their builds, distinguishing features and the way they walk.

You can tell many things from the way a person walks. A straight back can be the sign of a wealthy family, or someone trying to impersonate an intimidating figure. The subtle difference is that wealth is also seen through clothing and the feet. Small steps indicate wealth, while the impersonator tries to take larger strides in an attempt to look bigger and confident. By the time I have walked a good 600 metres from the cafe there are still two people in my mind. I give them the benefit of the doubt by taking a “detour” with a significantly smaller amount of pedestrians, making it less likely for a normal walker to follow. They both turn the same way.

I conceal the small smirk I wish to show by taking another taste of the treat. Amateurs, nothing more, nothing less. I thought they would have figured out that the one they are sending for is smarter than that. Easier job for me.

I take one final turn into a secluded alley, stopping far into the darkness and pretending to look lost before I hear a noise behind me. I turn quickly, looking scared, before they attempt to placate me.  
“‘Ey, it jus’ me. Are ‘ya lost there ki’en?” He had a strong Boston accent, strong enough that I could almost taste the cigars and bourbon. I decided I should play with them a bit, who knows if I’ll get another fun time soon.  
“Y-yeah, I-I’m new ar-round here. D-do you know w-where-“ I tried to say, at least, before his partner decided this was the absolute perfect time to butt in.  
“Drop the act, we need you to come with us. Just turn around and this’ll be easier for the both of us.” This one was much better spoken, but I liked him even less.  
I giggled almost manically, “Well, you can’t blame me for trying to have a bit of fun.” I spoke, my hand covering my mouth while I laughed my way through the sentence.

With a soft sigh, I watch in bemusement as they both grip the barely concealed holsters on their hips. Well, barely concealed to me. The reason for their alarm was not the sudden change in my demeanour, but the soft static that could now be felt pricking at their skin. They knew exactly what this was. With their attention now being raptly focused on me, they could see every detail in the whispery smoke that exuded from my chest. It curled and danced up and down my limbs before some broke off and flew higher into the air behind my back. As it slowly formed into a more solid mass, I could see the trembles that started to fail the suppression techniques the agents in front of me were taught. A grin worked its way into their minds, forever sealing the next words along with the image of my crazed joy.

  
“It looks like I didn’t get a new me by moving. Oh well, _let’s have some real **fun** , shall we?_”


End file.
